


Here We Are, Me and You

by yuletide_archivist



Category: The Adventures of Priscilla Queen of the Desert (1994)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-22
Updated: 2004-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-25 03:40:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1629581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tick wakes up to something unexpected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here We Are, Me and You

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Megolas

 

 

'A raging hangover' had not been on Tick's Christmas list, but Christmas morning brought just that. Giving a small, pained groan, he attempted to roll out of bed, and found that he was unable to do so. With some difficulty, he opened his eyes and was greeted with the unexpected sight of tangled limbs. A few blinks and the blurriness of sleep went away, leaving him with the realization that some of the limbs were his own, and the rest belonged to one Adam Whitely, who was dead asleep beside him, apparently naked and with one arm slung over Tick's chest. And that had definitely not been on the Christmas list either.

Tick laid his head back down on his pillow and closed his eyes again. For a moment the thought crossed his mind that he was probably just dreaming, and if he opened his eyes, he would be alone in bed, as he would usually expect himself to be. But Adam shifted in his sleep, legs curling tighter around Tick's and fingers lightly sliding over his ribs, surprising and almost arousing, and there could be no doubt that he was actually there.

How he got there was a mystery though. Tick remembered doing the show the night before and, afterwards, the cocktail bar. Drinks one, two, and three were fairly clear in his mind, but then things got a bit fuzzier. He could vaguely see Felicia, wig slightly askew, laughing uproariously at something he had been doing, possibly involving a feather boa and certainly not meriting that much amusement, and later, just at the edge of his memory, was Adam again, in that very serious manner suggesting that one was well and truly shit-faced, saying something about Christmas and something about love and something about "come on home with me, Mitz."

He turned that last memory over in his mind for a moment before something occurred to him, and he opened his eyes again. The ceiling above him was definitely not the ceiling he usually saw when he woke up. A quick glance around revealed that he was, most definitely, not in his room.

Suddenly, it was not a question of what Adam was doing in his bed, but what he was doing in Adam's.

"Fuck," he whispered. This was not an ideal turn of events. It was certainly nothing he would usually do. Drunken one night stands might have their place, but if they involved one's friends, it was not generally desirable. Even if they were friends, as Tick very occasionally admitted to himself that Adam was, that one might not mind having in their bed, in normal circumstances, after having some warning that romance might be in the air. Any vague hopes he might have had for such an event seemed ruined because, of course, there would be no normal circumstances now. Unless he could extricate himself without waking Adam and hope that his memories were just as fuzzy as his own. Experimentally, he tried to pull away, but it only resulted in Adam tightening his grip around his chest and nuzzling his head down onto Tick's shoulder. He breathed out another quiet "Fuck", both because of his failure and because it was becoming clear that at least one part of him was proving to not be adverse to the situation at all.

Wonderful. Christmas morning and he was hung over, confused about what had happened, a little annoyed with himself and, in spite of that, getting hard.

The problem, Tick told himself as he closed his eyes again, resigning himself to the situation, was that he hated having things like this happen without having had a good think about it first. And even though he liked Adam quite a lot - fancied him quite a lot, if he was going to be honest about it - any thoughts he had had about him and Adam really being together had certainly not involved it happening because of a very drunken night. And it was certainly not supposed to be happening then. For one thing, Adam sometimes still seemed so amazingly idiotic and young and guaranteed-to-drive-him-mad, and that could hardly be good for a relationship. And even though, compared to a year before, he had definitely gotten better, Tick was not sure if he did not still have a bit more growing up to do.

The other thing, which Tick tried to push out of his mind as soon as it showed up there, but which, with the silence of the room and the heavy, warm feeling of Adam's skin on his own, refused to go, was that it was worrying to not know what Adam's reaction would be when he woke up. There had been times when he thought that Adam might fancy him, but there had been many other times when it seemed that Adam simply fancied everyone, or at least was willing to flirt with them. He wondered briefly what he should do if Adam proved to be pleased about the situation, but that thought was quickly replaced with ones involving shock and "What are you doing in my bed, you old queer?" and ruination of friendship. On the other hand, there could be singing which, with his current headache, might be even worse.

He was wondering if they would still be able to work together if everything went wrong when he heard Adam give a small sigh and shift slightly, and he knew that he was awake. He almost had a moment of panic, but did not quite make it there before he felt lips pressing against his shoulder and heard a muffled, "Morning, Mitzi."

"Morning," he said, opening his eyes to find Adam looking down at him, a smudge of eye shadow still on his face, seeming neither shocked or about to sing, but almost smugly pleased.

"Well," said Adam. This was followed by another kiss, on the forehead this time. "I got what I wanted for Christmas."

"I got a headache," Tick said.

"That's because you've been naughty," said Adam, and there was a laugh and another kiss, maddeningly close to his lips.

There was a funny, quick little jump in Tick's stomach, and he suddenly, despite all his thoughts of ruined plans and unexpected situations, thought that this was a lovely thing to wake up to.

"This is all right, isn't it?" Adam asked, strangely sounding almost hesitant.

And it was all right, Tick decided. Certainly not what he had planned for, and certainly not what he had expected, but he quite liked Adam and Adam, apparently, quite liked him. Maybe it was not what he thought he had wanted right then, but it was possible for things to work out satisfactorily even if they happened differently than planned. And he would certainly never know if he did not try. "Just what I wished for," he said, and for that he got kissed, wonderfully and enthusiastically, on the lips.

 


End file.
